Next Door Neighbors

Marinette looked out the window and cursed. Nightwing. Why was he there? Why was he just chilling on the next door roof. Fuck, no. Well there goes my safe, affordable apartment, she thought, sliding through her open window, looking up at where Nightwing was, before using her baton to reach the level of the rooftop, balancing on top of it.

“Was the bird trying to be a peeping tomcat?”

“No! No, I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, Lady Noire.”

She raised a brow. “Really?”

“What’s special about that apartment. You seemed awfully cozy there. You live there?”

She sputtered for a moment before glaring at him. “No. Get that grin off your face, birdy, before I take it off for you.”

“You think you could?”

She narrowed her eyes, pushing off the baton to tackle him on the roof. He pushed her off, she twisted, to land on her feet, extending her baton to a staff and twirled it around, as Nightwing drew his escrima sticks.

“I guess it’s true what they say. Cat’s always land on their feet.”

She lunged at him, bringing her staff around to meet his escrima sticks, ears twitching at the clanging. She narrowed her eyes twisting to black his next blow, getting a hit in as she passed. The two traded blows back and forth, before Lady Noire managed to get a lucky hit, twisted her staff, pulling his weapons out of his hands.

Marinette whipped the belt around her waist off, lassoing it around Nightwing’s wrist. Yanking on the belt to bring his hand back, she grabbed the other, bringing the two together and quickly, tying his hands together, kicking the back of his knees.

As he started to move, she placed the end of her baton under his chin and tilted it up towards her. She tilted her head to the side as their eyes met.

“How much did you see?”

“What?”

“How much did you see?” she repeated, gently pressing the baton a bit further.

“You, in your apartment. I was patrolling not peeping like you suggested.”

She cursed, the ears on top of her head flattening. “So you just so happened to find me in my apartment?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t looking. I just got lucky.”

“Of course you did. Just my luck,” she muttered tilting her head back. She drew her baton back, yanking her belt off of his wrists, placing it back around her waist. “I’d ask you to stay away from my place, but I imagine that’s not going to happen considering we’re on opposite sides of the law. So I’ll simply ask that you don’t try and stake my apartment out right away. Give me a few minutes to try and protect my identity, for whatever good that might do me.”

Lady Noire quickly left him on the rooftop, slipping into her apartment through her window, locking it behind her before grabbing a blanket and throwing it over it and taping it in place, cursing her luck.

When Marinette was born, she didn't have a soul mark, as her soulmate hadn't made a name for himself yet.

As she got older, she began to see a soul mark, but would wonder why it would switch so much. 

Sometimes it was ابن الخفاش (Son of the bat) other times it was simply Damian.

There were never any last names. No. That would make it to easy

As Marinette got older, her forearm would only display the name Damian, rather than reverting back and forth between ابن خفاش (Son of the bat).  

It seems like her soulmate figured out who he identifies himself with.

A few months after Marinette's 9th birthday, she had seen the name Robin appear, she was confused at first, seeing as the name had not changed in a few years. 

She didn't have long to dwell on it though, it changed back a few hours later.

Seeing the two names Damian and Robin on her forearm became a common occurrence, so she didn't worry about it.

The one time she was truly worried about her soulmate was when her soul mark disappeared completely. 

She waited for days, wondering what happened, she couldn't ask her 

parents because they didn't know about it, and they were probably too busy anyways.

As Marinette was reading, her face showed great sadness.

Apparently, when your soul mark disappears, then your soulmate has ceased to exist. 

In other words, dead.

After getting over the initial sadness, Marinette told herself that she wouldn't let that stop her.

She went about life. Soul mark mostly forgotten, when she felt a warmth like she had never felt before. Looking at where the warmth originated, she saw that her soul mark was back, the name Damian clearly displayed.

Marinette was confused.

What happened? It was gone. I had searched for days wondering what happened.

Even online there was no explanation, it was unheard of.

Marinette never told anyone, not wanting to be considered even more of a freak then she already was.

°

Everything went back to how it was before, the names switching back and forth, but that was normal.

After Marinette received the Ladybug Miraculous, she wondered if her own name would change on her soulmate.

She had always considered Marinette and Ladybug two separate people.

Marinette was just the clumsy baker's daughter who is always late, clumsy, and tends to get stuck in her.

No one wanted to be her friend anymore.

She was 15 now, but between Lila and Chloé, no one wanted to come near her.

In contrast, Ladybug was someone everyone listened to. She was a leader, and everything about her seemed like it. She didn't take from anyone hands down, and her creativity has saved the day more times then you can count on.

She doesn't resonate with both, it's always one or the other. Never both.

°

Marinette wins the class a trip to Gotham. Most of her classmates are excited, but a few know that their parents would never let them go.

It makes no difference, Marinette wouldn't be talking to them anyways.

In the end, only Lila, Chloé, Sabrina, Alix, Kim, Ivan, and Mylene are allowed to come along.

°

Marinette had gotten bored during the few days that they had to get over the jetlag, only ever talking to Tikki, and occasionally Mrs. Bustier.

Since it was dark outside she decided that there was no problem with doing a quick patrol. 

What she did not count on was a Bat seeing her.

After Marinette noticed someone was tailing her, she landed on a roof to get a better advantage point.

That is when Robin struck.

Quickly deflecting his sword with her yoyo, she exclaimed

"Who are you?"

"My name is unimportant - you, tyrant, will die today by my blade." 

"Tyrant?! I'm a hero, from Paris. I’m Ladybug!"

After hearing that Robin's steps faltered

"Ladybug?"

°

Thank you @ramos123 and @ashbrea381writings for beta reading!

°

Let the Games Begin

Marinette hurriedly ducked into the nearest alley way as a figure dropped down from the rooftops. A quick glance revealed a glimpse of a red helmet, leather jacket, and guns. Red Hood. Just great, she thought, cursing silently as she ducked back around, hand lightly resting on her baton. Just in case. If all goes well I can skip away scot free. The cat ears resting in her hair twitched at the soft scuffle of a boot against the concrete as he moved.

She held her breath as the streetlights cast a shadow at the mouth of the alley. She lowered herself to the ground, gripping her baton as the shadow stopped, the silhouette of Red Hood staring intently into the alley, before taking a few steps inside.

Please, please, please. I have to have some residual good luck left that Plagg hasn’t completely butchered.

She froze, ears twitching at every small sound, she focused on the soft footsteps. He turned his back for a moment and Marinette took that as her cue to move, quickly extending her baton, carrying herself to the rooftop, and collapsing it as he turned around. She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped as she watched, ducking back from the edge as he scanned the alley way once more. She waited a moment before creeping back to the edge to check if the coast was clear.

He hadn’t moved, only he had taken his helmet off, holding loosely in his left hand. Fuck, he’s handsome, she thought looking down at him, eyes focusing on the shock of white in his black hair as she looked at him without the helmet.

She shook her head as she backed up, standing. Nope. She was not about to fall for a vigilante. Especially not the shooty, violent one with a body count. Nope. Not today.

She made her way across the rooftops, reaching her apartment’s roof before realizing she’d forgotten the jewelry she’d stolen in the alley.

Merde.